Boy, Interrupted
by TrudiRose
Summary: Oneshot: the curse from Chip's point of view.


Sometimes when he slept, he dreamed of running.

Such an ordinary thing, but to Chip it was miraculous, as fantastical a dream as flying would be to a normal child. In his dreams, he was racing across a meadow on short, strong legs, far ahead of the other boys, the summer breeze cool on his face, laughing with the sheer joy of freedom and movement and speed.

Other times he dreamed he was throwing a ball to another child, who then threw it back to him in a giddy game of catch. Another impossible scene that would never happen in real life. Not anymore.

Those were the only memories of the "before" time that were still clear to him, and he clung to them like precious keepsakes. Everything else had faded away. He had been trapped in this strange life for nine years now: an eternity to a child. Especially when that child was only 5 years old himself, and would never grow any older - a Peter Pan made of porcelain.

He didn't remember much of his earlier life. But he _did_ remember the awful night of the change. That, he would never forget. Even now, he sometimes woke up screaming from nightmares of that terrible time, but thankfully, only once or twice a year. At the beginning, he had had nightmares all the time. His mother had been so worried about him.

The night it all happened, he had been very excited. He couldn't remember why now. There was some kind of holiday, he thought - a celebration. He was going to get presents the next morning, and he couldn't wait. His mama told him to go to sleep, so morning would come faster. But he was too excited to sleep for a long time. Then, when he finally _was _asleep, dreaming of all the wonderful things that would happen in the morning...that was when the life he had known suddenly ended forever.

He had woken abruptly, knowing instinctively that something was very, very wrong. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was terrified to see that his room looked enormous. The bed he was in stretched out as far as he could see. The ceiling was as high as the sky. And he felt different - harder, somehow.

In a panic, he realized that he couldn't feel his arms or legs. He cried out for his mother. The door opened, but the thing that rushed in and hopped onto his bed was not his mother. Not the plump, round, white-haired Mama who had always comforted him before. What he saw was a teapot - a teapot with a face. At any other time, he would have laughed at the sight. How funny and silly! A teapot with a face! But now, he screamed in horror. His familiar, reassuring world had turned into a nightmare.

The teapot spoke. It had his mother's voice. She tried to soothe him, to tell him everything would be all right, just as she always did when he was upset. He clung to that voice, the only familiar thing in this scary new life. She longed to cuddle him, to stroke his hair, but she had no arms now. All she could do was try to nestle against him. He tried to take what comfort he could from that, but her body was so cold, so hard and unyielding, so unlike the soft, comforting, pillow-like mama she had been all his life. He fell asleep sobbing against her porcelain form.

In the morning, they tentatively left the room to see what other changes had occurred. The castle seemed oddly deserted, devoid of humans as it now was. Sounds seemed to echo in the vacant rooms and corridors. All that was left were objects, objects that spoke in familiar voices. Even the castle itself had been transformed, the bright colors turned dark and oppressive, the graceful angelic statues turned to grotesque monsters.

And then there was the prince. In the past, Chip had always made sure to stay out of his way. He was always so irritable and short-tempered and yelled all the time. Not a person Chip wanted to be around. But now, he had become an actual _monster,_ an enormous, terrifying Beast with six-inch fangs and a ferocious roar that rattled the windows. His mother had always assured Chip that there were no such things as monsters. But now, they were trapped in the castle with one, scarier than anything in Chip's picture books. Even on the other side of the castle, Chip could hear the Beast ranting and roaring, smashing furniture to pieces in his frenzy, and the noise made him tremble.

For many weeks after the change, Chip refused to leave his mother's side - except when she went to serve the Beast. Then, Chip hid fearfully in his room, waiting for her to return. He was terrified of the huge, fierce, raging creature who could shatter Chip's fragile new body to bits with just one swipe of his massive paw.

He had asked his mother why they had been cursed, and she had told him the story of the prince's arrogance and the Enchantress' spell. Chip had frowned. "But that's not fair!" he protested. "Why did she punish _us _for what _he _did? We didn't do anything wrong!" His mother had no answer for that. "Life isn't always fair, my love," she said sadly. "It's our burden to bear, and we must simply do the best we can."

But children are resilient, and in time, even the most bizarre situation begins to seem "normal." Over time, Chip's memories of his old life faded, and with them, the nightmares. His usual cheerful personality returned, much to his mother's relief. He learned to hop around, to find ways to play, to slide down the edges of furniture and go for rides on Sultan, the dog who had turned into a footstool. Life wasn't so bad, once he got used to it.

Mama still talked about the day they would all be human again, when the spell would be broken. She always said not to give up hope - she was sure it would happen soon. Chip always smiled and nodded, but he didn't believe it. And in his heart, he knew she didn't believe it either. No one ever came to the castle, and the time was almost up. It was silly to think that a miracle would happen.

He told himself that it was okay. He had been a teacup now for almost twice as long as he had been a boy, and at this point, it was all he knew. The possibility that life would continue forever just the way it was now did not frighten him anymore. It was familiar.

But sometimes, he dreamed of running. And when he awoke to find it was only a dream, he wept...but quietly, so no one would hear.


End file.
